Fibro Flares · Keepin' it real · whine and cheese

Day 336: Not as planned.

Unsurprisingly (to me,) I woke up in a full fibro flare this morning. Not only did everything hurt, but my brain felt foggy. Mr. December taught the kids all morning while I tried to be functional. I attempted to sign E into her online class, but I had forgotten that it was in a different Zoom room today because the physical school was closed due to a water main break. Long story short, she missed the first ten minutes of her class.

At 12:45 my phone rang.

“Hi, it’s the orthodontist’s office. Is K on her way?”

“Um, our appointment is at 2:45… isn’t it?” I asked weakly.

“No, we had changed it to 12:30. I spoke to K on Wednesday and she said you said it was fine.”

Now that she mentioned it, I remembered a conversation to that effect. I had been elbow deep in art supplies and didn’t remember to change the time in my phone’s calendar.

“So… can you come now?” the receptionist’s voice brought me back to the present.

What else could we do? I rushed K out of the house—but not before my alarm rang to remind me that E had another online class, so I detoured to my desk to log her in—and realized that our car was still buried under a whole lot of snow. Thank goodness R and N had decided to shovel the driveway earlier rather than later. I got K to the appointment. She went in while I waited outside in the car (we’re still in lockdown, remember?) with the heater on.

Guess what happened next? Oh, go on. Guess! I’ll wait.

My battery died. The car’s battery, I mean. So I phoned the auto club and asked for a boost (I keep my own booster cables in my car but the cars parked nearby didn’t have drivers in them, so that was useless.) The lovely man with the Québecois accent answered and assured me that the towing company would text me directly to say when they would be coming.

I sat and waited. The car started to get cold and my muscles started to tighten with the dropping temperature. The text arrived.

It was all in French. Now, I understand a fair bit of French, but I wasn’t absolutely sure I was understanding this message. Could they really be saying that they’d be coming to help me in two hours and ten minutes? Surely not. Maybe they were saying they’d be there by 2:10?

It was the former, confirmed the guy at the auto club when I called back to check. He suggested that I could call a towing company myself and then submit the expense for reimbursement. “It’s usually fastest that way,” he said.

By this point K was done with her appointment and had rejoined me in the car. “Maybe we could watch something on your phone to pass the time,” she suggested. I obliged, opening up Netflix to watch The Good Place.

After a moment I mused out loud, “I wonder if there’s a garage nearby. Maybe I could ask them to just come over and help me?”

Thanks to google maps and the lovely man at the nearby auto repair shop (who doesn’t offer this service but came out to help me anyway) we were on our way home twenty minutes later. Of course, I had to leave the car running for half an hour to charge the battery, so I just sat there in the driveway for a while. By the time I got inside I was tired, achy, and thoroughly fed up. It was close to 3:00 and I couldn’t focus on any one thing for too long, so I was obviously not going to teach anyone anything today. Instead I did the only thing I could do: I took a two-hour nap. It was definitely a better use of two hours than waiting in a cold car for a boost from the towing company…not that it’s much of a contest.

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